


In My Darkest Moments

by Izupie



Category: Pitch Black (2000)
Genre: Carolyn survives the end of Pitch Black, Character Study, F/M, POV First Person, She Deserved Better, kind of more of an implied Fry/Riddick, lots of introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8228023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izupie/pseuds/Izupie
Summary: Carolyn Fry thought that she was going to die when the creature pulled her away. In fact, everyone thought she was already dead. But a mixture of luck and a pure need to survive means that the newly named captain has a better chance than she first thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this fic back in 2012 but I re-watched 'Pitch Black' a few weeks ago and decided to give this a bit of a touch up and polish, ready for a publish on AO3. I'll keep the original version on fanfic.net, for nostalgia, but hopefully this will be a significant improvement!

In My Darkest Moments

 

It was a long time before the monstrous screeches became silent. I can’t remember how long I was listening to them; time blurred with the darkness and the constant throbbing of the wound in my back. I had escaped that creature (that _thing_  that had robbed me of my chance of freedom when it was so close) but it hadn't exactly been plain sailing from there. I had somehow cheated death, but something definitely died inside me that day.

 I'd almost done it - the one selfless act that was going to redeem me of all the selfish sins of my past - but then it was all torn away from me in just one numbing moment, when I felt that tail pierce right through the skin of my back, and I was ripped away from Riddick's side. I can’t remember much of what happened immediately after that. The rushing of air battered my body, still hanging from the claws of the creature that attacked me, while ear piercing screeches sounded from every direction at once. Darkness, pain, noise... They were the only things that existed for me then.

 I remember feeling a shift in the direction of the air, rushing up from below me, and a sensation of being weightless, before I landed, hard, on something cold. I groaned and pushed myself up slowly, realising the coldness was steel, and dimly hoped that I must have landed on what was left of my ship. The screeches in the air above me increased in volume and intensity and I recoiled as a warm liquid splashed down onto my shoulders. I still couldn't see, but I could hear the reverberations of flurries of wing beats, the slashing sounds of claws tearing through flesh, and screams of pain. More liquid splashed across my face as I looked up in a vain attempt to see what was happening, and it seemed to jolt me back into my own body. They were fighting over me. The creatures were all so desperate for a living meal that they had torn me from my captors grasp, I'd fallen, and now they fought to be the first one to pick me back up. If I could have, I’m sure I might’ve managed a bitter laugh at the irony; the very hunger that had threatened us all had given me this chance to live, but as it was, I was still in a strange state of numb disbelief and every movement didn’t even feel like it was my own. Trying to put some sense of urgency into my fear-numbed limbs, and gritting my teeth at the white hot pain searing through my back, I crawled across the steel, aware that at any moment one of the creatures could break away from the fight and pick me off, and attempted to slide off the edge to the ground - praying that it would be a short drop.

 I’m not sure how I made it into the ship, with blood running down my back and shivers shaking my frame so badly I could barely stand. At least the pain of my wound and my blind terror kept the impact of my fall from registering. It was only later that I realised how absurdly lucky I was that the creature had tried to carry me away before killing me, and that the others had not only wrestled me from its grasp, but dropped me in one of the only places that could provide me with any kind of protection.

 The world was still a thick, intense darkness, but by touch I was able to find a hole in the steel side. The metal scraped against my skin as I squeezed myself through the gap, but I was so intent on getting inside I didn't even flinch. I stumbled as I straightened up, biting back a scream as pain lanced through my back and stomach, and heard the thud of my body hitting the ship floor almost distantly, as if my senses could no longer keep up with the deluge. I still wasn't safe, I had to keep moving, the screeches were still raging outside and while the gap I had used was too small for them, I was sure there would be bigger holes throughout the wreckage they could use to get to me. With great difficulty I grit my teeth, heaved myself to my feet, and pushed back wet  blonde hair from my forehead, that was already caked in sweat and dirt. I knew they could smell the blood that I felt oozing a warm trail down my back; I could hear their screeches echoing through the metal, and they were loud and close. I had to disguise my scent somehow. Only one or two of those things could get in such a narrow space at the same time, and if they couldn’t see me or smell me there was a chance I could survive. I tried not to think about starving, dehydration or bleeding out.

 My knowledge of the ship prior to its crash was extensive, and I grunted with the effort as I shuffled along with a hand on the metal wall, trying to find some indication of where I had ended up inside. I wanted to get to the cargo hold, hoping to find that something useful had been left in there, and feeling it would provide me with a better chance of being able to hide from the creatures' sense of smell. Each step was intensely painful, and I became increasingly aware of the damage my initial fall had done to the left side of my body; my shoulder burned and I was sure I had at least cracked a rib.

 My weary footsteps took me through the ship, my boots clanging loudly on the metal, and I winced with the noise while constantly checking over my shoulder, even though I was still blind in the darkness, through some instinct to try and see what was coming for me. I was convinced the screeches would be the last thing I heard before one of them finally reclaimed the fragile life that had somehow gotten away.

 I had recognised the feel of the wall I ran my hand along; the feel of a light switch, a rough scratch that had never quite polished out, the placement of the automatic doorframe, and I knew I was heading in the right direction. By memory and what I assumed to be some kind of divine luck, I managed to find the door I wanted. I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face in the pressing and disorientating darkness, but I ran it along what I hoped was the correct door, and felt the rough brail beneath my trembling fingertips. ‘Cargo’. My sweat and blood slicked hands slipped on the metal but I finally managed to wrench open the door, while I choked back a sob that threatened to burst out of me at the relief, ducked inside, and shoved the door firmly closed behind me.

 Instantly the reek of alcohol hit me, and I recalled the crate of booze that pretentious collector had brought with him. I placed my forehead against the cool door, my hands balled into fists, my eyes screwed shut, and tried to slow the ragged breaths making my chest heave. I wasn't sure who's voice was in my head telling me not to be a quitter, to keep going and fucking get on with it; but it sounded suspiciously like the dark, deep pitch of Riddick. I almost managed a smile then, taking one more deep breath and pushing away from the door to shuffle into the centre of the room. I put my hands out in front of me, groping in the dark for the crate I knew had been left behind, already knowing that we had all used  the bottles of alcohol as light sources, but I had to hope there was something left in there. My knee bumped against wood, and I leaned down into the crate, feeling my hope drain away as my hand ran along an empty wooden surface. Surely there had to be at least one left. Putting both arms in, I pushed around the inside of the crate frantically, until a finger felt something cold. I grabbed it and wasted no time in tipping the liquid over every part of my body that I could, pausing only to take one long gulp for myself. I took considerable care to cover my back, and had to bite my other hand to stifle the scream that I couldn't stop from ripping out of me as the alcohol ran over the wound. It was the only chance I had left; even if any creature managed to follow the blood trail to the room, I had disguised my own scent well enough that they wouldn't know I was in there.

 Clutching the bottle to my chest, as if it was the only thing tying me to my sanity, I moved behind the crate slowly and slid to the ground, letting my weak legs finally give out. I felt so weak, I wasn't sure how much blood I had lost, but I was sure it wasn't good. I tore a strip of fabric from my top and tied it around my middle, in an attempt to slow the bleeding. The fact that I was still alive made me hopeful that the creature's tail had missed anything vital, and that it wasn't as deep as I first feared. Trembles wracked my soaked and sore body and I leant carefully against the wood behind me, still clutching fiercely to the empty bottle.

 The screeches seemed so close that I never stopped believing that every heartbeat would be my last. A few times I heard the door clang, and claws scrape against the metal floor. I held my breath each time, willing them to leave, and though they must have followed the blood to the cargo room, none tried especially hard to break into it, obviously following the blood scent back out again. I simply stayed behind that wooden box, with an empty bottle in my arms, staring at the black emptiness all around me. I had been told that at times like those your life was supposed to play black in your mind, but all I could see was Riddick’s face. I kept seeing his smug smile, or the light in his strange eyes when he was teasing me. But most of all, I saw the horror as I was torn away from him. Time seemed to slow down so much that in just those few seconds I saw the shock and realisation darken his expression. I even tried to reach out to him as the searing pain began, and watched his figure grow smaller and dimmer as I was pulled further away into the darkness. I wish I could have scoffed that he'd gotten too attached to me, that there he was caring about whether I live or die, but realised it was a stupid thing to want to do, given my current predicament. I took comfort in the thought that I had gotten under his skin in the way he had gotten under mine.

 At first I had been just as scared of Riddick as the rest of the ship had, since I only knew what Johns had told me, and he simply saw a wanted criminal and murderer. But Riddick could cut right through the shit and see you for what you really were. He always looked at me like he knew exactly what self-preserving coward lay beneath my skin, and in the end I realised that's what must have terrified Johns, more than anything Riddick could physically do to him, and that it was his most dangerous ability, I think; not what he did, but what he _could_ do, what he saw, and knew. He was as unpredictable and changing as a wild animal, but with an intelligence that was unnerving, like he was always one step ahead of everything, and he was so confident that he seemed almost bored, only getting some kind of sick kick out of playing mind games. But even with all of that I felt myself drawn to him. He enjoyed the conflict I felt, between wanting to save myself and trying to be a good person, in the same way I enjoyed discovering him wanting to save himself and trying _not_ to be a good person. When we spoke in the prisoner holding bay I knew Riddick could feel the connection between us, and the effect he had on me, and he had tried to scare me away. But when I saw those eyes I had to physically stop myself from telling him how amazing I thought they were. I couldn’t help it. To me they were just another sign at how different and how mysterious he was. Riddick could have killed us all with little problem and thought nothing of it, but he had helped us all stay alive – though he did it begrudgingly.

 Riddick had kept everyone going, I was sure. I was the captain of the ship, even if it was through circumstance, and although I hadn’t wanted the responsibility for those people I had tried to kill at first, I accepted the position when I realised their need for a leader was greater than my shame. Though I knew that if Riddick had disagreed with anything I had said, they would all have followed his orders over mine. It was his over confidence in his own abilities and self-assurance of his own survival that gave him the natural ability to lead, even if his decisions were never made with the intention of doing the right thing, or to help anyone but himself. But that was so refreshing to someone like me, who struggled to do the right thing even when I didn't want to. He recognised the weakness for survival in me, and made me feel like the one thing I hated about myself was only a strength in his eyes. I had never felt that before. The irony was that being able to finally push through my weakness was the reason I ended up in that cargo bay both freezing and bleeding to death.

 A particularly loud clang took me out of my memories. My breath caught in my throat as vibrations ran through the ship, while a sudden rush of adrenaline brought heat to my cheeks. I didn’t want to die. I could almost hear Riddick’s laughter as I thought it, and see his hand reaching out for mine through the rain. I remembered seeing his expression through the glass as I stood panting in the driving rain, blocking his escape route. It was the smile of someone who had expected nothing less. The smile of someone having fun. I hadn’t realised why he’d been smiling like that until he stepped so calmly out to me and offered me something he knew I’d be unable to refuse. But refuse his offer was exactly what I did, even if the decision had torn me apart, and reduced me into a crying mess.

 I was no longer sure how long I had been sitting there in the dark, so numb with cold that even my shivering had stopped, and I lifted a hand experimentally to my face, but the darkness was still so thick that not even an outline was visible. I tried not to think about just how hungry I was, or how much my throat was burning, and I wrapped my arms around my torso in a vain attempt to warm up. I didn’t want to consider where I would be now if I had taken Riddick’s hand and gone with him, but the thought persistently tugged at the corners of my imagination. Maybe we would have travelled together, going wherever the fancy took him, maybe I’d be dead like Johns, or abandoned on some strange planet when I was no longer considered interesting.  Again the memory of Riddick's face as I was torn away from him flashed into my mind, and I could hear the tone of genuine affection buried under his playful words as he gave me the chance to fly away with him. I hoped he understood that I had wanted to, I had wanted to so badly, but knowing that Jack would have died waiting for my return would have been more than I could bear.

 I drew my legs towards myself and placed my forehead on the cold, slightly damp material on my knees. I knew I had to get out of the cargo hold or I’d freeze to death, discounting my hunger and my thirst. But I had no light source left to drive away the creatures, and no means of escape once I got outside... I was in a dire situation that left me with two choices - die slowly there or die getting picked apart by monsters. I felt despair wash over me and a chill that ran deeper than my skin. Either way I was going to die. Carolyn Fry, newly named captain of a whole ship, was going to be killed by her own newly developed sense of selflessness that led her to go back and rescue a known criminal and murderer. I tried to tell myself that in a way I had kept my word; I had told Riddick I wasn’t going to die for him, and I didn’t, not really, it was circumstance that was going to kill me.... I gritted my teeth together as I tried to stand, placing my empty bottle down, pushing on the cold floor with my hands and ignoring the way that my short hair fell in front of my eyes; they were useless in this darkness anyway. The clothes on my back had dried onto my wound and I could feel the dried blood peeling away and cracking as I attempted to get to my feet. I was weak with hunger and exhaustion and nearly fell straight back down, only staying upright by grabbing onto the crate as I felt my knees buckle.

 I thought that if I was going to die anyway I would do it on my own terms. I wanted to walk outside and face my fear of death, knowing that my sacrifice hadn't ended in me shivering and dying alone, surrounded by the ghosts of my regrets and memories. It wasn’t what I had planned when I’d stumbled into the wreckage, and suddenly all my efforts to stay alive, all the pain I had endured, seemed pointless and wrong - I had thought I was so lucky to survive and escape, but what kind of a life was this, feeling it draining out of me? I thought I might finally gain some meaning to my life if I faced up to my fears, and make up for my weaknesses and past mistakes. My resolve strengthened with every slow and painful step, and I felt my way back to the door to the cargo hold. I placed my cold fingertips on the metal frame, quite ready by that point to go out and accept my fate, but before applying any pressure to the door I realised something was wrong. At first I panicked, because something crucial had changed and I wasn’t sure what, but then I began to slowly understand and felt it run through my veins like liquid fire. It was silent. The constant screeching had been in the background for so long, and I had been so wrapped up in my own head, that I hadn't even noticed it stop.

 I didn’t dare let the confusion I was feeling at the silence blossom into hope that the eclipse was over, they could still be out there, maybe they slept? My hand shook violently as I reached out slowly into the darkness ahead of me, and I poured every ounce of strength I had left into opening the door to my prison. As it opened just enough for me to squeeze through I noticed something that made me want to fall back down to the floor and weep - sunlight. I was so weak I could barely move, so I leant against the ship wall as I shuffled forward, teeth chattering in a mixture of cold and nerves and I felt my dry lips cracking as a pained smile found its way onto my face. My eyes darted around the structure as I moved through it, and locked onto the shafts of sunlight breaking through the holes the crash had created. I still wasn’t quite sure if I had finally lost the last of my sanity and was simply hallucinating. I took some hesitant steps toward the hole I had entered through originally, what seemed like a lifetime ago now, the sunlight lighting my way. The temperature around me was rising slightly even as I hesitated, I could feel my numb skin tingling in response, and the light grew stronger as I gently lowered myself into a crouch to get through.

 The first time the sunlight touched my skin I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. A sob choked its way out of my throat as I realised that the eclipse was over. The thin shred of sanity I still clung to kept my escalating relief in check as I desperately fought against hyperventilating and laughing, but the tears still wouldn’t stop. There were a few bodies of the creatures littered on the sandy ground, their skin was sizzling in the sunlight and a strong unpleasant smell wafted up from the corpses, so I assumed that they knew instinctively when sunrise was approaching and went back to whatever hellish underground caves they came from, and the bodies on the ground were the ones that had died during the eclipse. I limped further into the sun, ignoring the bodies, but the pain that still burned through my whole body made progress maddeningly slow. The world was ablaze with colour, the sky was clear and the silence glorious. I shut my eyes tightly and smiled – a simple action that I never imagined could feel so good.

 Despite my overwhelming relief and happiness my tired eyes scanned the landscape and I felt the familiar trickle of cold through my veins, as once again doubt and fear spread like a poison through my hope. I was alone on this planet, and I still had no food and no way of leaving. At least I knew that if I could get to the research building there would be water, as the rise in temperature was already making my dehydrated headache worse, but the thought of trying to go all that way in my condition made me realise how hopeless my situation really was. Again. Just trying to make my way out of the ship had almost used up all the energy I had. There was no way my legs would support me all the way to the research building.

 I took a look down at myself then, the first time since the eclipse, and barely recognised what I saw. My clothes were stained brown with the alcohol, with splashes and smears of a blue colour on both my arms and clothes that was the creatures blood, and I already knew there must be a large patch of dark red running from my back down to my trousers. I lifted my hands to examine them in the light and was horrified to see both of them were dark grey with a mixture of dust, dirt and blood. I knew my left side had taken the impact from my fall and I dreaded to think what my left leg looked like under my uniform; putting weight on it was difficult. And who knew what sort of damage had been done to my insides from the tail wound. I sighed and ran a hand through my already messed up hair, now dry and straw-like with blue blood and grime, all my frustration at yet another hopeless situation coming out in that one simple movement.

 “Is this my punishment? For wanting to kill all of those people? For trying to kill them!” I coughed out the words, my dry throat not managing to raise my voice above a whisper. I took a deep breath, “For wanting to escape with Riddick? For telling him I wouldn’t die for him? … When I would!” I screamed out to an empty desert, my voice cracked and hoarse with disuse and thirst. I shook my head while I struggled to get my breath back, coughing again. What was I expecting, and answer?

 “- llo?”

 I froze. Was that voice?

 “Hello?” A young male voice was carried on the windless air, and I shielded my eyes from the glare with a hand as I scanned the horizon.

 “Is someone there?” A definitely female voice joined the first in yelling, and I felt a hope so strong it took my breath away. I was suddenly unable to get enough breath to shout back to them. I clenched my eyes shut and took a huge gulp of air.

 “Heeeey! Over here!” I coughed violently as my dry throat protested about such use. Through watering eyes I saw two silhouettes on the horizon and waved my arms as high as I could above my head, hoping they’d notice me. In the painfully slow time it took the pair to get close enough to see them properly I ran through so many awful scenarios at who they might be and what they were doing on such an awful planet that I almost didn’t want them to get to me anymore. However once they got close enough to see me fully, the young man pointing a gun at my chest lowered the weapon and the woman rushed forward to catch me as I felt myself slide down toward the sand, on legs that could no longer support my body weight.  She barked an order at her companion and pointed back the way they had came, something about water and a ship. Her attention returned to me and I hazily heard her questions, thought it felt like the words were reaching me through a fog. I wanted to reply and tell her everything, right from the beginning; from the very first moment I tried to reach for that lever in that doomed ship. But all that came out was one word.

 “Riddick.”


End file.
